Not Always Black and White
by Separate Entity
Summary: Of course it would be a child of the sun god. Of course it would be someone tan and fair-haired and light-eyed. Of course it would be someone popular. And of course he would refuse to leave Nico di Angelo alone.


**Not Always Black and White**

**Songs: Some Kind of Home by Thriving Ivory**

**Creep by Radiohead**

**Kyle's last name, Lahav, means "flame" or "wick" in Hebrew.**

**I don't own anything you recognize.**

**Rated T for descriptions of injuries, language, and kissing.**

* * *

If it weren't for that stupid nymph, Nico would have been able to avoid Kyle Lahav.

His only excuse was that he was tired. Sleeping was almost a non-occurrence for Nico since Tartarus. Earlier, really, but Tartarus was the easiest reason. And so, when he tried to shadow-travel to camp, he missed his intended target by a few hundred yards.

Nico landed in a tree, lost his balance, and crashed to the forest floor amid a cloud of torn-off leaves and several small broken branches. For a minute Nico just laid there, catching his breath and cursing. Then he rolled to his feet and began to hike towards the dining pavilion. It was almost dinnertime, and he was hungry.

He had only made it a few steps before something wrapped around his right ankle. Nico whirled around and drew his sword, the black blade flashing in the dying sunlight. Before he could do anything with it, however, he felt a sharp tug and went crashing to the ground for the second time in ten minutes. This time, he heard a snapping sound, and pain shot through his leg.

From the ground he could see what had happened. A thick root was wrapped around his right ankle and leg, and in the dim light he could see that his shin was broken, a glint of white peeking through the bloody skin at the hem of his shorts. A greenish face coalesced in front of Nico, eyebrows narrowed and lips pursed in a frown. "Watch where you're going, demigod," the dryad hissed at him. That _hurt_."

Nico's teeth were gritted against the pain. He could have called on the earth to help him, could have made it suck the dryad's tree down into nothingness, but he was simply too tired. He melted away into the growing shadows, this time aiming for the Big House.

He landed on the wooden porch with a jolt, sending white-hot tendrils of pain through his leg. Blackness crept up in the edges of Nico's vision, and he had to fight down a surge of nausea. He opened his mouth to call for help, but at that moment the door opened and a blond head poked out. Nico caught sight of a widening pair of green eyes in the light of the porch lamps, and then the world went dark.

* * *

When Nico woke next he was in the infirmary at the Big House. He tried to ignore what it meant, that he had recognized it so easily. He glanced around and saw a glass of nectar on the bedside table, along with his sword. Nico's cot was the only one that was occupied. He pulled the bed sheet aside and winced at the sight of his casted leg. It was going to take a while to heal then, even with ambrosia and nectar, or they would have just put the injured limb in a splint.

Nico let out a sigh, then reached over for the glass of nectar. He had just taken a sip when the door opened. Startled, Nico sucked in a breath and choked on his drink. Whoever had been at the door was at his side in moments, taking away his glass and helping him into an upright position. When he was breathing normally again, Nico looked up at his companion. The boy was of medium height with well-muscled arms under his orange camp T-shirt. He looked to be about Nico's age, sixteen, or maybe a little bit younger. "Good morning," the boy said. "I'm Kyle Lahav. How are you feeling?"

"My leg hurts, but I'll live. How long was I out for?"

"Just overnight. What happened to you, anyway? That was a pretty nasty break." The boy—Kyle's skin was tanned gold and his eyes were an expressive pale green. Nico forced himself not to stare.

"I fell and broke a few tree branches last night. Dryad got angry with me." Kyle hadn't asked for Nico's name. Did he know who he was? Nico couldn't remember anyone he didn't already know willingly having a conversation with him in months.

"Sorry to hear that," Kyle said, interrupting Nico's train of thought.

"I've been hit by worse."

"Of course you have." Was he _teasing_?

"Aren't you not supposed to patronize the patients?"

"Easy tiger. If you wanted some alone time all you had to do was ask." Kyle flashed a smile, displaying a chipped front tooth. "I'll see you around, Nico." And then he was out the door before Nico could react.

Who was this boy? Nico hadn't met him before, but that meant less than nothing. Nico didn't meet that many people outside of his father's realm. He knew who Nico was, that much was clear. He knew who Nico was, and yet he'd been completely at ease and nonchalant during their conversation. He'd even smiled at Nico. Tan lips spread easily, the chipped tooth just enough imperfection to make him seem real. A smile that had taken Nico by surprise.

_Get ahold of yourself, _Nico scolded himself mentally. He physically shook himself, then hissed as his leg jarred. Nico drained what was left of the nectar, then pulled his pillow over his head. A little sleep would help. He was tired and in pain, and it made him think oddly. That was all.

Sleep didn't seem to want to spend any time in Nico's company that night. He lay on the cot, unable to toss or turn without jogging his leg. Well, at least he was lying down. That was better than nightmares. Then again, Nico's unoccupied mind was often just as bad as his subconscious. When the rustle of wind outside the Big House began to resemble the breaths of some unknown beast, Nico resorted to humming Italian lullabies under his breath until he finally succumbed to sleep.

* * *

With his leg useless, Nico was essentially confined to the Big House. He could make it to the bathroom and back on crutches, but that was the extent of his mobility. With this, Nico reached three conclusions.

1: He was intensely, pathetically bad at pinochle. After inly two games, Dionysus refused to as much as play cards in the same room as Nico, lest he break his oath not to harm any of the campers.

2: Food was delivered to the infirmary the same way it had been on the Argo II—enchanted plates. This was a mixed blessing, because Nico got to avoid the dining pavilion, but it also reminded him of the quest, the Giant War, and other unpleasantries. He berated himself for this on occasion—got through Tartarus by yourself and you can't even handle a godsdamned plate, not like it's going to try to kill you.

3: Kyle Lahav needed to get a life. Every day, the son of Apollo would pop in to the infirmary to "check on my patients" or alternatively, "see if I really know what I'm doing with this whole healing thing" or on one memorable occasion "make sure you haven't scared off the other cots" which earned him a look somewhere between disbelief and outrage. He talked to Nico, or rather at Nico, every time he visited, boasting about a win in Capture the Flag or narrating the most recent happenings in the Ares cabin/Hermes cabin feud that had apparently been going on for about three weeks. Nico rarely responded beyond a grunt or two.

On the sixth day, Nico snapped. "Don't you have a cabin to get back to? Friends, maybe? Stop hovering over me all the time!"

Again, Nico was nonplussed by Kyle's response. Instead of shouting back or cowering, Kyle just shrugged. "I do spend a lot of time in the infirmary." He paused, and a bit of color rose to his cheeks. "I'm probably the only child of Apollo who couldn't shoot an arrow to save their life." He gestured towards his mouth. "I almost impaled my head last year pulling an arrow out of the ground."

Nico shouldn't be interested by this boy's story. He shouldn't be happy or satisfied or &anything that this boy is sharing his weaknesses with him. He shouldn't be. He said, "that takes talent" and it required more effort than usual to keep the harsh edge in his voice.

In the end, Nico thinks it's the gentleness that got to him, the gentleness and the constant smiles. At first he'd thought that it was pity, all of the attention. Or maybe some sort of experiment on the other demigod's part, like poking a feral dog to see how it would react. It was easier to be angry that way. Suspicious glances and cold shoulders he could handle, but Nico had no defense against honest kindness.

* * *

When the cast came off after two weeks, Nico wanted to jump and run. He wasn't allowed to. He had to start slowly and get his legs used to walking normally again. At least Chiron let him move out of the infirmary and into the privacy of the Hades cabin.

Of course, Kyle kept following him around like a mother hen. That was, if mother hens were blond and earnest and beautiful and moved with the grace of a dancer. "I don't beed a frigging babysitter, Lahav," Nico snarled as Kyle followed him out of the dining pavilion for the umpteenth time.

"I know that," Kyle said with his usual easy expression. "Believe me, I know that."

"Then why are you doing this?"

"Doing what?"

"Hanging out with me." Nico angled away from the cabins, where Kyle should have been headed.

"_Hanging out_? And why not?"

"You don't get it, do you." It wasn't a question.

Kyle just stared at him, the obtuse son of a hydra. "You're really going to make me spell it out? I'm an outcast, Lahav," Nico spat. "I scare people. I don't fit in anywhere. Nobody trusts me. I spend my time talking to dead people and brooding in corners." _I'm _gay,_ for crying out loud_, Nico wanted to say, but he cut himself off before the words passed his lips. "And you, you're all sunny and popular and handsome and—"

"You think I'm handsome?" Kyle interrupted.

Nico froze, trying to hide the panic welling up beneath his ribcage. Failing to hide the panic, because Kyle's eyes were gentle on him now, and strange without their ever-present glint of teasing. "It's okay, Nico," he said, and the gentleness was in his voice, too. He took a slow step forward, acting for all the world as if Nico was a startled pegasus.

"I'm sorry," Nico gasped, desperate and scared. "Sorry, I'm sorry, Kyle, I—"

Kyle interrupted him again, this time with hands gripping Nico's shoulders. "Seriously, Nico, I'm fine with it. Thrilled, really." The grin was back on his face.

"Why is this so godsdamned funny?" Nico demanded. Again, the other boy was reacting in a polar opposite of what he'd expected.

"Because I thought you were way out of my league. Powerful, hot, son of the Big Three…"

None of this was making sense. Nico shook his head, and then Kyle's hands were on either side of his head, forcing Nico to look into his eyes. He could feel the other boy's breath on his face. He smelled like summer. Nico felt like he was going to pass out. "I don't understand," he said weakly. Or rather, he couldn't understand. There was no way that Kyle meant what he thought he meant.

"There's nothing you need to understand," Kyle said. "It's simple." And with that, Kyle closed his eyes, leaned in, and pressed his lips to Nico's.

Nico surprised himself by responding to the kiss, pulling himself close to the other boy and reaching up to tangle his fingers in Kyle's hair. It was soft, softer than he would have expected. Kyle moved when he did, and they backed up blindly until Kyle's back was pressed up against something Nico was too busy to see. His mouth was flooded with the taste of mint and strawberries and his thoughts were a dizzy swirl.

How long had he wished for something like this, only to shove it away as an impossibility? After Percy, Nico had almost accepted that he would just be alone for the rest of his life. That he would go to his funeral pyre unkissed. And now here was this boy who had wormed his way into Nico's life like an insidious ray of sunshine, and dared him to wish again.

When they pulled away for air, Kyle's pale green eyes were bright, his cheeks flushed, and his lips pink and puffy. His hair was rumpled from Nico's grasping hands and he was breathing hard. He looked beautiful, Nico thought, for once allowing himself to linger on the other demigod's appearance. "Nico," Kyle said, "Nico, I…" he stopped speaking and leaned in for another kiss, just a soft caress of mouths. "I thought you hated me," Kyle confessed.

"I thought I did too," Nico replied with a resigned smile. "I guess you grew on me."

"Well, I am rather charming like that," Kyle said, and Nico chuckled.

"Stubborn's more like it." He swallowed and a nervous thrill shot down his spine at the taste of mint in his mouth. He licked his lips, and there it was again. He could taste _another boy_ in his mouth. Nico marveled at it.

"Nico?" Kyle asked. "You still there?"

"What?" Nico asked. "Oh. Yeah. I'm here." He nudged the other demigod with an elbow to prove his point. Kyle's chest was broad and solid and his embrace was warm. Warm. Solid. An embrace. So much of this was new to Nico. He didn't quite know what to make of it.

"What were you thinking about?" Kyle asked. "Your eyes were miles away."

"I just never thought this could happen," Nico admitted. "Other than my sister, nobody really ever wants to do so much as talk to me, forget about being my friend. Add being gay to that and finding anyone who might like me, anyone who might &want me just seemed like too much to hope for."

Kyle nodded. "I'm lucky."

Nico swallowed hard. The sun was in his eyes. That was why his eyes were stinging, no other reason. The sun, warm and solid in front of him, with lips that tasted of strawberries and mint. Nico wrapped his arms around Kyle's shoulders and tilted his head to mouth at his jawline. He reached Kyle's neck and breathed in, smelling fresh cut grass and feeling the frantic staccato of Kyle's pulse against his lips.

Kyle tipped his head back and Nico leaned in to take advantage of the opening. Under the shift of his weight, Nico's bad leg crumpled. Unbalanced, the two of them went tumbling backwards, still holding each other.

_Pain_. "Zeus almighty," Kyle gasped. He scrambled forward, pulling Nico with him. It was only then that Nico smelled smoke. Still swearing, Kyle scrabbled at the hem of his shirt, yanked it up, and pulled it off over his head. The back of the garment was in flames, and Nico finally, belatedly, made sense of the reason behind the searing pain. Looking down, he saw that his arm hairs had been scorched off, and the skin of his forearms was red and blistered.

Leave it to him to have his first ever makeout session up against a flaming climbing wall. "Kyle? Are you alright?" Nico asked, his imagination running wild with worst-case scenarios.

"I think I burned my back," Kyle said his voice tight with pain. "Can you look for me?"

Kyle's upper back was in the same state as Nico's arms, and there was a long scratch below the burn that was bleeding freely. "That bad, huh?" Kyle asked at the expression that settled on Nico's face.

Nico shook his head and wiped the sweat out if his eyes. "You'll live."

"Let me see your arm. It looks painful."

"Your back looks worse."

"Gee, thanks," Kyle said and grabbed Nico's hands in his so he could examine the burns. He looked up and met Nico's eyes. "I'm afraid there's nothing to be done. They'll have to come off." He was smirking despite the pain tightening his face, his eyes crinkled at the corners.

"Shut up," Nico huffed resisting the urge to elbow him while he was already injured. "Let's just get to the infirmary. Unless you're hiding nectar somewhere?"

"You're free to check," Kyle said, extending his arms. Hands freed, Nico flicked his arm. "_Ow_," Kyle protested. "Now I need to get to the infirmary for sure." Retaking Nico's hand he began to lead the way to the Big House.


End file.
